


Not-Flying Intelligence

by WindwiseWords



Series: Xenogen City [21]
Category: Transformers - All Media Types
Genre: AU, Acquiring a Pet, Alternate Universe, Amalgam of Universes, Belly Rubs, Broken Bones, Broken wing, Caring, Cuddling & Snuggling, First Aid, Fluff, Foreshadowing, Kissing, M/M, Mech Preg, Pregnancy complications, Size Difference, Storms, injured animal, not the character
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-25
Updated: 2016-10-25
Packaged: 2018-08-27 00:49:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,659
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8381308
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WindwiseWords/pseuds/WindwiseWords
Summary: The hurricane passed, Cyclonus and Tailgate wake to the sense that something is in their home after their balcony door is shattered by the powerful wings and debris. Moving the couch away from the broken door, Cyclonus finds a pelican with a badly broken wing. He thinks it's the stupidest looking bird ever, but is it really all that dumb?





	

**Author's Note:**

> I see you regular readers/bookmarkers. <3 Love you guys...

Tailgate and Cyclonus both woke at the same time, sensing a change in the air. Cyclonus put a hand up, Tailgate having learned this meant both stay and be silent. The minibot remained perfectly still as Cyclonus peaked out their berthroom door, hand on the blaster they kept there just in case.

Out in the apartment, everything was a mess. A shard of wood smashed into it, sending things flying about. Not that they had anything to worry about ruining. What Cyclonus worried most about was the soft scuffling noises. They came from the door to the balcony, broken away by powerful winds.

Cyclonus took the blaster and stepped around broken metal and glass, and with a grunt shifted their couch away from the door. Behind it, the biggest and stupidest looking bird he ever saw.

“It’s just a bird.” He called to Tailgate, staring at the ridiculous creature and sighing. It was probably hurt and that meant Tailgate would demand to help it.

Sure enough the round minibot appeared in the door after a few minutes of rolling in the berth to try to get up on his own. Cyclonus would’ve helped, but Tailgate insisted on doing _something_ for himself. A little gasp and a delicate coo. “Oh Cyclonus! Look at its wing…”

Cyclonus did a double take and saw the twisted feather and flesh and bone. He knew that pain, having a wing mangled up so bad one couldn’t fly. Without any prompting he picked up the feathery creature and brought it inside, tearing a strip of already-soaked upholstery off the couch to wrap it.

“It’s a pelican.” Tailgate said, gently petting the terrified bird’s side. “Titan says they’re like the carrier class of the bird world.”

Cyclonus failed to see how this weird creature could carry anything with its oddly webbed feet. “It’s not going to recover alone. And Ratchet is no veterinarian.” At least not for this. A human’s dog or cat was one thing but birds were delicate, light and with their hollow struts Ratchet often failed to do more than put down the birds that blew in during the heavy storms.

Tailgate knew this, often bringing the injured birds in and staying by their side. He and his minibot friends, the Mini-Trine as Starscream started to call them, moved with compassion in everything they did, Tailgate the most compassionate of all three.

“Oh, Cyclonus...” He went to lean up against the purple mech’s side, the pair settling on the couch to hold the bird. It made no noise, only breathing quickly and staring up at them with terrified eyes. “It’s okay. We’re not going to hurt you.” At least, not unless there was no hope for it. Cyclonus would put the bird down. Tailgate’s compassion rubbed off easily onto others.

Cyclonus hesitantly stroked the feathers and carefully moved the injured wing. He passed the birdy bundle to Tailgate and went to go scavenge in the destroyed kitchen for anything to set the bone. It was a transverse fracture, clean through, and the bone popped through the skin. Finding a wooden spoon in a turned over drawer and some tape, Cyclonus came back to help set the wing. The bird began to panic and Tailgate hung on tightly to it, letting go so it could run to hide wherever it chose in the mess of their living space.

“Ratchet will be too busy to care for it. Before you ask, yes. It can stay here until Ratchet can help.” Tailgate gave a happy little wiggle and nestled up to his side. Cyclonus wrapped an arm around his shoulders, and put one over his mate’s ever-growing belly. “Only because I think it will be good practice for myself.”

Tailgate nodded and blinked. “Because the flour-bag experiment went well.” Tailgate heard some human schools taught how to care for a child in a home-making class with a bag of flour wrapped in a diaper. Of course he insisted Cyclonus drag it around, and it ended poorly when Whirl and Vortex decided they had enough of being told to ‘leave it.’ Tailgate eventually called the idea stupid, and didn’t judge Cyclonus’ parenting skills at all on the experiment. If it was really their sparkling, Whirl and Vortex would be in splatters across the floor.

“I cannot get attached to inanimate objects. This is a live creature that I can relate to and give care.” The pelican waddled around on the floor, stretching its unbroken wing and watching them. Tailgate nodded and smiled, retracting his mask to kiss Cyclonus’ shoulder.

“Okay. I guess I can understand that. Oof.” Tailgate grunted, rubbing the side of his plates. “I guess when I panicked it worked him up.” Cyclonus offered a rare smile and leaned down to kiss the top of Tailgate’s distended plating. The white minibot giggled as Cyclonus nuzzled and lightly mouthed over him, plating sensitive from the stretch and it felt a weird mix of ticklish and relaxing.

“Any ideas for a name?” Cyclonus asked, and when the confused tilt of a head followed, he sighed and gestured to the pelican.

“Oh. Winglet.” The name came naturally enough. Cyclonus nodded and murmured the designation.

“Winglet.” He rumbled as the bird waddled daringly closer, jumped up onto the ruined couch, and sat down. Tucking its beak down it its chest feathers, it fell right asleep next to the cuddling robots. “A brave bird. Most run from us on sight.”

“You just have that calming nature about you, Cyclonus.” Tailgate giggled and nuzzled under his now-scowling mate’s chin. “Love you…”

“Love you too.” He purred back, deciding to ignore the comment on his less-than-calming nature to everyone but Tailgate. Cyclonus kept his hands over Tailgate’s middle as the minibot lay back for support.

The bitlet was quite active that morning. Cyclonus could feel him moving around and didn’t bother to ask if it discomforted Tailgate. The soft hitches in his vents made that apparent. Cyclonus hesitated for a moment, glancing to the pelican before starting to sing softly, wrapping a hand under Tailgate’s middle to support the bottom of the swell. He let out his EM field and that combine with Tailgate’s relaxation once the pressure was off his struts a little seemed to still them both.

Cyclonus felt eyes on him and looked over to see Winglet staring at him and listening to his singing. He was sure the creature couldn’t understand, but a soft set of squawks and chirps near-to-pitch made him wonder the intelligence of the bird. Tailgate giggled and began to sing the song as well. The bitlet continued to move and shift but with much less vigor.

“He loves your singing.” Tailgate murmured. “You have such a nice voice Cyclonus.”

“Many disagree.” Cyclonus sighed, wondering how on any world Tailgate could think the rough growling voice attractive at all.

Tailgate pouted and tried to sit up more to hug him but winced. “Hurts.” Cyclonus’ wings flared in alarm. Ratchet warned that carrying such a disproportionate sparkling could cause discomfort and moderate pain.

Winglet chirped and came to cock its head and look at Tailgate’s belly as Cyclonus tried to rub soothing circles. Spotting one of the exposed latches, a shiny tab of metal, the bird nipped at it and caused Tailgate to squeak.

Cyclonus moved to push it away but Tailgate held his hand against his side. “It just startled me. He nipped a latch to my armor… Idea!” He barked out through a dull ache. If he were any later in, they both would’ve worried about a premature emergence, but Ratchet also informed them the sparkling was quite content staying inside Tailgate’s gestation chamber for now. Even at his carrier’s detriment.

Tailgate tried to slide a stubby finger under the armor’s latches and Cyclonus took over with a slender claw. As the latches popped loose, the tension on Tailgate’s middle subsided. The thinner under-armor, a plain silvery metal used to attach armor and to cover gaps of exposed protoframe, shifted out so much easier than the armor plates. Tailgate sighed with a shutter and vented heavily a few times.

Cyclonus stared dumbly and looked at the pelican. It stared back, having calmed down as Tailgate did. What _was_ this creature?! “To think the answer for your pains was so easy.”

“I think the issue was my armor couldn’t expand in size. All my spare minerals and metals are going to the sparkling.” Tailgate felt big arms curl around him, then one left to place a warm fluffy bundle on his chest. “Hello Winglet. You helped me out, you silly bird.”

Winglet fluffed its feathers and settled down on the warmth of Tailgate’s chest. Cyclonus couldn’t believe a bird of all creatures figured something out that Ratchet never suggested, or warned against. Sure Tailgate was more exposed but since he rarely left their quarters these days, he would be fine. The under-armor protected from shocks and falls, the two threats around the house. Maybe he gave Winglet too much credit.

“I think this solves the problem for now. If I get too much larger it’ll start to hurt again, but I’m just going to be glad for some solid recharge.” Tailgate offlined his optics and the visor dimmed. A gentle white hand petted over soft white feathers. “Good Winglet.” A white hand pet over Cyclonus’ chest. “Good Cyclonus.”

The injured bird decided to close its eyes to rest as well, and Cyclonus was left alone to ponder the previous notions that earth animals to be stupid beasts. He commed Ratchet to alert him of the situation, leaving him a note about what had happened and then sent a head count to Optimus. Cyclonus paused before adding Tailgate obtained a new pet. With the duties for the day taken care of, Cyclonus tilted his head back onto the squishy couch, and set a time to wake them before rust could set in from the damp cloth.


End file.
